


The First Night of Many

by OHJO



Series: Nights Like These [1]
Category: DCU (Comics), Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sladin, dickstroke, did I STUTTER, on the mouth, sladick, there i said it, very exciting stuff I know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25216465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OHJO/pseuds/OHJO
Summary: After being out of the country on a private mission for three years, Slade returns to Gotham City only to be immediately coerced into attending a gala hosted by Lex Luthor. Barely functioning off of zero sleep and a few glasses of wine, the mercenary runs into an unfamiliar, familiar face. His night just got a lot more interesting.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson
Series: Nights Like These [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1826881
Comments: 17
Kudos: 156





	The First Night of Many

The last Slade thing wanted to do was attend some damn party. 

He had just returned from a long-term mission in Bolivia, where he had spent literal  _ years _ scoping, tracking, and hunting down individual members of one the country’s biggest organized crime units. The hunt had been relentless, forcing him to traverse through various terrains such as the salt flats and the Amazon Basin rainforest. On more than one occasion, he spent months blending into communities and engaging in the politics of small towns and large cities, only to find his lead was worthless or outdated. It had been an intense job that few would be able to mentally or physically handle, which was surely why the Bolivian government had chosen to hire him for it. 

But finally, after three years of pursuing his prey, Slade had finished the job, clean and efficient as usual. He assumed this was because he was more patient than most people, even than most mercenaries. However, his patience had apparently just run out, because when Lex Luthor had called him up the  _ minute _ he had returned to his Gotham apartment, declaring Slade absolutely  _ must  _ come to the gala he was hosting that night, Slade hung up on him without a second thought. 

Many wouldn’t survive to tell the tale of hanging up on a man like Lex Luthor, but the infamous businessman didn’t seem to take Slade’s disrespect too seriously, as he chose to send Slade a text a moment later instead. It contained the address, dress code, and time for his stupid gala. The man even had the nerve to end the text with a  _ “See you there!” _ followed by a mocking emoji of a grinning yellow blob with hands joyfully waving in front of its face. That emoji alone made Slade decide to move Lex Luthor a few places higher up on his personal hit list. 

Alas, Lex was not the type of man to be denied, not so easily at least. The mercenary hadn’t even had time to shower or sleep during the past two weeks, and now he had to attend a party? Worse yet, a party full of stuck-up aristocrats that Slade had zero energy to deal with? Looking between the door to his bedroom and the door to the bathroom, Slade sighed, deciding showering would be a better use of the limited time he had before he had to leave. 

_ Maybe I should have stayed in Bolivia, or faked my own death.  _ Slade mused darkly to himself as he sat at a round clothed table, four glasses of wine into this stupid event. His table was filled with faces he didn’t recognize or didn’t care about. In fact, he could probably describe everyone at the party in that sense. There was a mix of wealthy CEOs, political leaders, and a few faces Slade didn’t know but could assume they held some sort of notoriety if Lex had invited them here. He tried his best to commit their faces to memory, but eventually gave up as he refocused his energy on just maintaining basic functional skills while he was in the public eye. Lex might have forced him to come, but he could never force him to socialize or enjoy himself.

He decided to spend his night people-watching, as there were plenty of characters making fools of themselves at this party. Tripping over each other to get the attention of certain influential individuals, making awkward small talk with strangers to avoid having a dreadful moment of silence where they’d inevitably recall how sad their lives were outside of social events. Slade was particularly entertained by keeping an eye on the flirts of the party; people so desperate to stay connected to the rich that they were practically throwing themselves at them every chance they got. They giggled over glasses of wine, leaning in closer with each drink, all courageous touches and fluttering eyelashes. It made Slade roll his eye, taking another sip of his own drink. He relished in the brief second it allowed him to escape this shitshow. If he ever became an alcoholic, surely Lex would be the one funding his rehab treatment.

When he opened his eye again and set his glass down on the table, he felt silly for acting so dramatically. A lack of sleep will do that to any person, even one that’s usually as mentally stable as Slade. He hung an arm over the back of his chair, attempting to relax while he continued to look around the gala. 

A burst of laughter from across the room caught his attention, his eye landing on a group of gentlemen who all seemed to be having a genuinely good time. How annoying. They were being charmed by someone hidden in the center, but Slade could only make out some jet black hair. 

Mildly curious, the mercenary kept an eye on the group until people on the outer ring moved out the way, making the livelihood of the group come into view.

_ Fuck.  _

The young man in the center even  _ looked _ outwardly charming, charisma pouring from his bright smile and vibrant blue eyes. He was captivating, the people surrounding him looked like they were intoxicated by his mere presence, and Slade couldn’t deny that even from across the room, he too felt the pull.

_ He’s just too damn pretty.  _ The mercenary grunted to himself, reaching for his wine once more. He oddly felt a bit overwhelmed, which was incredibly out of character for a man of his profession. The young man had shoulder-length, shaggy hair, so black it almost looked blue in the dim lighting of the gala. It swept across his face like silk as he turned to address different people in the group, making him cutely tuck it behind his ear to keep it out of the way. He was lean and beautiful, but also surprisingly masculine with his strong jaw and muscular stature. He was hiding a lot of strength under his suit, Slade could tell. But strangely, the mercenary didn’t think he had ever seen this kid before. Then again, he had been gone for three years, and the man in question looked relatively young. 

Said black-haired man suddenly flicked his eyes towards Slade, meeting his gaze evenly through the crowd of people between them. Slade froze, unsure whether to look away or maintain eye contact. Something flashed in the other man’s eyes then, something wicked and familiar, but then it was gone again. He flashed a grin at Slade, making the older man’s breath catch in his throat. 

And just like that, he turned his attention back towards chatting with his friends. Looking unbothered and ignoring Slade’s continued gawking. 

Slade forced himself to look away, a wave of something similar to embarrassment coursing through his metahuman veins. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so unsettled by  _ anything,  _ but the mysterious man’s stare had left him feeling exposed. He eyed his empty glass and frowned.  _ Maybe it’s the wine. _

The mercenary pushed the feeling down, shrugging it off. It didn’t matter, Slade only had to stick around for another hour or so before it would be appropriate for him to excuse himself from the party. He looked forward to nothing more than crashing into his bed head first. 

Although that notion comforted him, Slade couldn’t help but glance around at the partygoers, not-so-secretly looking for the alluring black-haired man. It seemed the man moved around quickly, jumping from conversation to conversation. He wooed each and every person he spoke to, shaking their hands and saying things that would have them breaking out in smiles almost immediately. They ate up his every word, his attention so invaluable. 

Slade wasn’t sure what category this young man fell under; was he a young entrepreneur? Some CEO’s bratty son? Perhaps he was just a shameless flirt like half of the other attendants of this event. The mercenary began feeling a sense of disdain towards the man, which was an emotion he was much more comfortable with expressing. It was frustrating how easily the kid moved through crowds, how effortless he made it look. If Slade was working with a full night’s rest and a better mood, he’d be doing the exact same thing at this sort of event. Hell, he could out-charm the shit out of this kid on almost any given day, but not tonight. Perhaps that’s what startled the mercenary, how much he saw himself in the younger man, but was unable to compete on an equal playing field as him. 

But why did that matter? Why did Slade care so much about some kid showing him up?

Appearances be damned, Slade laid his head on the table and groaned quietly. He wanted to go home. If he stayed like this for a while, it was feasible that Lex might come kick him out for being a buzzkill. Then again, that felt like such a  _ juvenile _ way of dealing with the situation. 

Reluctantly, he picked his head up and leaned his hand on his cheek instead, trying to find a way to mentally push his way through the rest of the night. He glanced at his table, which had been empty for some time as everyone got up to mingle, and was surprised to find the beautiful dark-haired man sitting next to him, sipping on some wine and looking out at the gala, eyes observant.

Slade did his best not to stiffen, to not show weakness, but he truly was caught off-guard by the young man’s presence. No matter how sleep-deprived or drunk he was, that  _ rarely _ happened. There was definitely something off with this particular gala guest. 

“Can I help you?” He snapped, eye narrowing at his uninvited table mate.

Deep blue eyes looked back at him, unfazed. In fact, there was something impish about the way his lips curled into a smile before he spoke. “Sorry! I just wanted to rest my feet for a bit without others coming to talk with me. I thought sitting next to you would solve that problem.” He added the last part cheekily, waiting to see how Slade would react. 

“Lucky me.” Slade replied dryly, but sat up straighter than he had the entire night. He wouldn’t let this kid push his buttons so easily.

The young man turned towards him, challenging him with determined eyes. He crossed his legs, momentarily making Slade lose his concentration because  _ wow, those legs.  _ “I figured you wouldn’t mind, considering you’ve been watching me all night.” 

Slade  _ refused _ to let any guilt or shame show and instead shrugged nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I haven’t seen you at these events before, that’s all. Got a problem with that?” His tone was low and threatening, but the black-haired man broke into laughter, stepping on Slade’s ego even more.

“So you don’t know who I am, huh?” He asked, eyes gleaming with amusement. Slade did not feel similarly, choosing to roll his eye at yet another rich kid feeling like everyone should know who they were. Slade didn’t give a fuck about who he was, and quite frankly, the kid was beginning to really overstep his bounds.

“I’m afraid not.” The mercenary spoke curtly, wondering how upset Lex would be if he just beat this kid up and stormed out of the party with no explanation. It might be worth it.

The pretty man tapped his chin thoughtfully, nodding. “I guess that makes sense, you have been gone for a while.” 

_ Fuck.  _ Slade swore to himself again, this mystery man knew more about Slade than Slade knew about him. This wasn’t the kind of situation he liked to find himself in, ever. The young man might just be acting overzealous, though, and had researched everyone coming to the gala. That’s what Slade would have usually done if he knew about the event beforehand. But the mercenary wouldn’t let this punk have the upper hand so easily. 

“I have been out of the country for business for a few years, yes. When did your daddy start bringing you to these grown-up parties?” Okay, it was low hanging fruit to make fun of the kid for his age, but from what Slade could gather, he definitely had to have been the son of some millionaire with the way he was flaunting his status to Slade.

His comment did seem to spark something in the man, which Slade counted as a victory. The stranger still smiled, but there was something much more guarded about his expression than before. “Three years ago actually, but that’s because he wanted to make sure I was of legal age before he could start whoring me out at these events.” The kid’s smirk was something dark and Slade  _ hated _ that he felt  _ unfairly  _ attracted to it. He wasn’t sure whether or not the young man was joking or not, but that wasn’t relevant. Currently, Slade winning this conversation was the only thing that mattered.

“Well thank goodness for that, considering I haven’t seen you slow down once on licking everyone’s boots tonight.” This time the dark-haired man rolled his eyes at Slade, but his mouth quirked to the side in a strange guilty smile. Slade hadn’t expected that.

“Just part of the job, I’m sure you understand.” 

Slade pondered this for a moment, but then shook his head. “Sorry, no, I’m usually the one getting my boot’s licked.”   
The man chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “This must be a very distressing interaction for you then.” 

Slade couldn’t stop himself from smiling at that, “You have no idea.” 

They sat in silence after that, the younger man unconsciously playing with the ends of his hair while he looked out at everyone on the main floor. Slade found it horribly distracting, and held himself back from reaching forward to brush the hair behind the other man’s ear. He was even prettier up close, but Slade was beginning to suspect the stranger wasn’t aware of the power of his good looks. Just by sitting across from him, Slade could make out his long dark lashes and soft pink lips. They were valuable weapons, whether the kid knew it or not.

Readjusting himself, the young man pulled a leg up to his chest and hugged it, his fingers twitching as he continued watching the other attendees. Something about this was familiar to Slade, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint why.

“I’m glad you’re back.” The kid said without warning, almost silently, and still refusing to look at Slade. The mercenary paused at this statement. “Not that I doubted you wouldn’t make it back, but three years is a long time to be gone.” 

“We… know each other?” Slade accidentally said out loud.  _ Curse that wine.  _

The young man’s head shot towards Slade then, bewildered. “I… You  _ really _ don’t know who I am, do you?” He laughed incredulously. “That’s insane, I almost don’t believe it. Are you feeling alright?” 

“Guess you’re not that memorable?” Slade suggested with a shrug, trying to deflect the obvious insecurity he felt about not being able to recognize this man. If he knew Slade then he was either a fellow villain, a hero, or a past fling.

The younger man gaped at him, half-smiling but taken aback. At that moment, one of the gala photographers walked by and the kid urgently motioned for him to come over. When the photographer reached their table, the young man stood up and repositioned himself behind Slade, an elbow on the back of his chair and a hand on his shoulder. 

“Could you take a picture of us, please? I’d love to have a copy of this for later!” He beamed and the photographer, who like everyone else at this damn party, was immediately swayed by the man’s charm and took the photo without question. Slade did his best to quickly pull himself together and smirk slightly for the photo. There was no way he was having his weakened state captured forever in time with this punk. The photographer let the young man know when and where the photos would be uploaded before moving on to others who wanted their picture taken. 

“I hate you.” Slade hissed, turning around in his seat to glare at the man who was causing him so much trouble on his already rough night out. 

The young man only grinned at him, looking very pleased with himself and absolutely  _ not _ apologetic in any way. “I missed you too,  _ Slade _ .” 

And just like that, the way he had said Slade’s name like he’d done a thousand times before, made something in the mercenary’s mind click.

“...Robin?” He whispered, but he already knew he was right. The hair, the attitude, even the way the young man held himself with pride and grace as he moved around the room. Of course it was Robin, Slade just hadn’t recognized him because the last time they saw each other, the boy was still just a teen. But now he was a man. 

The other man hummed at him, his striking blue eyes still smug. This reminded Slade that he had never seen the boy without his mask on either. 

_ I’d never forget a pair of eyes like those.  _ Slade’s tipsy brain noted.

“I go by Nightwing now, actually.” The young hero corrected him, moving to return to his seat next to the older man. “But you can call me Dick, if you want.” 

_ Dick? _ Slade’s mind raced, desperately trying to connect the dots. His brain felt too exhausted, but then it suddenly hit him. “Dick Grayson.”  _ Adopted son of Bruce Wayne.  _

“Bingo.” Robin, no - Nightwing, no -  _ Dick _ , praised him, a bit mockingly. “You’re really not on top of your game tonight, this is almost no fun.” Oh, but the younger man was undoubtedly having fun. Slade could feel it vibrating from his skin, could see the hero’s pupils dilating from adrenaline. He wasn’t sure if it was from the lack of a mask or the time that had passed, but this version of the Boy Wonder was something much less tame than the one he knew so many years ago. 

“I just got back from Bolivia this afternoon.” The mercenary wasn’t sure  _ why _ he was telling the hero this, but he continued nonetheless. “I haven’t slept in over two weeks.” 

Dick’s eyebrows raised, “Why the fuck are you here then?”    
“Lex Luthor.” 

“Ah, that jerk.” The dark-haired man chuckled, and Slade felt that the man knew more about Lex than he was letting on. “Do you want to get out of here?” He asked unexpectedly, surprising Slade for what felt like the umpteenth time that night. 

Slade stuttered for a moment, at a loss for words. Finally, he managed to ask, “Like, you and I? Together?”   
Dick blushed, but a cheeky grin found its way back to his face. “Not like  _ that, _ but I’ll give you a ride home if you want.” 

“I don’t need a ride home.” Slade stated and stood up to prove his point, but then, quite unfortunately, fell right back into his chair. He glared down at his legs that felt like jelly.  _ You betrayed me. _

The young hero snorted and stood up, offering a hand to Slade and pulled him up, steadying him with his strong arms. 

“If you don’t want to look embarrassed, put an arm around my waist.” Dick instructed him quietly. Sighing in defeat, Slade rested a hand on the other man’s firm hip and let Dick wrap an arm around his own waist to support his weight as they walked towards the exit. To other partygoers, it would simply look like Dick had chosen someone to go home with, which was something Slade’s pride appreciated after he made such a sorry mess of himself tonight.  _ Even out of costume, this kid still acts like a hero.  _ He chuckled to himself, making Dick shoot him a very concerned look.

“You’re not losing it, right? Should I be worried?” 

“Yes.” Slade smirked, feeling his conscience begin to drift. 

“Whoa whoa whoa! I might be strong but you’re  _ heavy, _ so please don’t fall on me.” He complained sternly, “I  _ will _ drop you, don’t be mistaken.” 

Slade took his comment to heart and stabilized himself, using every last ounce of energy to not eat pavement in front of the former sidekick. 

“I’m not a sidekick anymore,” Dick corrected him, making Slade realize he spoke aloud again without meaning to. “I do my own thing now, have been for a couple years.” 

“I see.” Was all Slade could manage without blurting out something stupid instead.

After a bit of walking, the two men approached a black motorcycle and Slade groaned. “This is your ‘ride’, little bird?” 

Dick looked up at him, cheeks flushing somewhat at the old nickname. “Haven’t been called that in a while,” he said, clearing his throat, “and yes, this is my ride. You can walk home, if you’d prefer. Or call a cab, so the tabloids have something to report on tomorrow morning? Your choice.” 

Woozily, Slade weighed his options. “Fine.” He grunted. 

“Great!” Dick exclaimed, jumping on his bike and patting the seat space behind him. “Hop on, then.”   
_ How humiliating.  _ The mercenary thought as he slid in behind the younger man, ignoring the warmth he felt as he wrapped his arms loosely around Dick’s waist and leaned his head against his back. Under different circumstances, he felt like this might be a prime place to nap.

“Sorry I don’t have another helmet but like… you’re a metahuman, so it shouldn’t really be an issue?” Robin seemed to be looking for reassurance, but Slade didn’t have the energy to answer him. The younger man took that as a yes and started up his bike. 

They pulled up to Slade’s apartment a short time later, though Slade didn’t remember giving Dick his address. The young hero carefully helped Slade up the stairs and with each step the mercenary could feel his body slowly giving up more and more. He really hadn’t gone this long without sleeping in a while, and he was most certainly paying the price for it. So was Dick, who seemed to be shouldering most of his weight without complaint up five flights of stairs. 

Then they arrived in front of Slade’s apartment door, which again, Slade  _ really _ didn’t remember giving any of these details to Dick but that was just something he was going to have to worry about later, if he could remember any of this god forsaken night. 

Regardless, the mercenary stepped forward, balancing himself without Dick’s assistance, and dug through his pockets for his key. Once he pulled it out and unlocked the door, both he and Dick let out a sigh of relief. 

“Okay,” Slade said as he stepped inside the open doorway, turning around to face the young hero one last time. “I suppose I should thank you, for helping me.” He mumbled, pushing down his pride as a villain and independent man.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m just glad you’re home safe.” Dick said, and it felt like he meant something more. 

“Me too.” Slade paused, leaning against the doorframe tiredly. He didn’t know what else to say or do, it was awkward. Both he and Dick seemed to be studying the ground between them for a few seconds.

“Well,” Dick started, a small smile on his lips, “I guess I’ll see you around Gotham. Good night, Slade.” With that he turned to head back toward the staircase, but Slade caught his forearm before he could leave.

“Wait-” The mercenary called out, and without thinking pulled the young hero into his arms, bringing him in for a long kiss. Initially, Dick stilled with shock, but only briefly before he melted into the kiss, cupping Slade’s face in his hands to deepen it even more. 

Slade’s body was beyond fatigued, and his brain felt fried, but he also felt so remarkably alive as he claimed the young man’s lips. If he wasn’t already drunk off of wine, he would surely get drunk off of the noises Dick was making. He wanted more, wanted to make the hero moan underneath him with those pretty blue eyes locked onto his own. 

But that would have to wait for another day.

Slade pulled away, leaving Dick with flushed cheeks, parted lips and panting breath. He was breathtaking. 

“I just wanted to let you know…” Slade ran his thumb over Dick’s cheek, watching the young man’s needy eyes flick between the mercenary’s eye and lips. 

“Yes?” He asked softly, making Slade reconsider what he was about to say. But no, tonight was not the night.

“...There’s actually an elevator at the end of the hall.” Slade’s smirk grew as he watched the anger bubble up in Dick’s once wanton eyes. Yes, even fuming like this, Dick still looked beautiful. “Good night, Grayson.” With that, Slade backed away and slammed the door on the young hero’s outraged face. He could hear swearing coming from outside his door, but the hero did not try to knock or open it. Instead, Slade heard his footsteps and grumbling fade away as Dick presumably made his way to the elevator. The mercenary grinned to himself and left his doorway, making it a few steps into his room before literally collapsing onto his bed. 

_ Dick Grayson is Robin. _

_ Which means Bruce Wayne is Batman. _

_ Huh. _

_ And my little bird has a crush. _

These were all things Slade hoped and prayed he would remember the next time he woke up.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I have three oneshots for this series planned so please look forward to them! Thanks for reading c:


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